Touch of Death
by DragonsCatsandBooks
Summary: Only in the touch of death do you realize how things may fall into place, and only in the touch of death does cold really strike you.


Ellen sat on her bed. She shivered as the frosty blood chilling wind blew through the old ebony window. She pulled the covers over her neck and switched from her left side to her right side. Her pale blond hair tickled her pale skin as she moved around again.

Breathing in and out in annoyance, she shivered again. She hated this house. With its old and broken furniture and its cracked ceilings and walls, Ellen hated the place to her very soul. Ever day it was the same here, as though it was stuck in time and couldn't move on.

It was from the Victorian Period of time and was the house of her great-great-great- grandfather. It was a pretty house, you couldn't deny that, but it was painted black, gray, and sometimes white.

Living here was like living in a faded photograph.

Ellen closed her eyes and tried to block out the sounds of the house and of the nighttime world outside. She wondered why her parents will had sent her to live with this bloody aunt who was 90 and had 50 thousand medications to keep her sane. She also wondered why her aunt would even choose to live in this Hell Hole of a house.

Shuddering, she groaned as another icy blast of wind hit her back.

"What did I do to deserve this?" she hissed and finally closed the window for the 5th time that night. Her thin and white night gown didn't do much to protect her from gales like this.

A sudden tapping, Ellen heard from her chamber door. Putting the pillow over her head, she groaned.

"GO AWAY! IT IS FIVE O CLOCK IN THE MORNING!" Ellen yelled to the door from underneath her pillow.

The tapping continued.

"Only this and nothing more."

A line suddenly popped into Ellen's head. It was wrote by her great-great who cares how many greats, but somewhere in her past she was a descendent to Edgar Allen Poe.

"Go away little raven. Fly away and go see your little raven friends," Ellen hoped this might work, but she knew it probably wouldn't

Tap. Tap, tap, tap. Came the reply.

Groaning, Ellen tried to block out the noise. She felt a hand suddenly and jumped a foot into the air, shrieking in surprise.

A fair maiden from the Victorian Period looked down at Ellen. Her black rippled like ocean waves and her two black out eyes stared at Ellen's gray ones.

"Where is Edgar?" her voice was like a mist tossed by the wind, so frail that it sounded that it might shatter in the smallest of puffs of air.

Ellen backed herself into a wall panicked. "I..I-I don't know who you are talking about?" Ellen said raising her hands in defense afraid this new woman might hurt her.

"Yes, you must. You see Edgar lives here. Doesn't he?" the woman gave a questioning look at Ellen.

"No-o… not anymore. He died awhile ago," Ellen was panicked, but asked to try an keep from getting anymore panicked, "what's your name?"

"Lenore," she said ever so softly that Ellen could barely understand.

"Lenore? You mean like "Raven" Lenore?" Elle asked getting more frighten by the second.

"Yes, I suppose so… Edgar wrote a poem about, about me… so long ago… It had a raven in it," Lenore looked at Ellen smiling a distant smile.

"Yea, sure, um right. Edgar is dead and so are you. Not trying to be rude or anything, but aren't you supposed to be in Heaven or something? Cause I thought spirits are supposed to go to Heaven and live happily ever after there," Ellen was speaking out of fear of her life. She was most of the time down right sensible, but after her parents death she had almost lost all of her sanity.

"No, not all spirits choose to go to Heaven. Some like me get bored of Heaven and come back," she said. Her eyes still complete blacked out some how seemed to watch every movement that Ellen made.

"Right, sure. Could you go now? Edgar is probably in Heaven and enjoying whiskey and beer," Ellen tried to layback down out now was pinned to the wall.

"No, he's not. He's here for me, so I'm going to make it easier, for him to find me," the spirit smiled a beautiful, heart breaking smile. Ellen stared transfixed.

Ellen saw her skin start to absorb Lenore. Screaming in panic, Ellen tried to push Lenore away.

"You're being stupid. Trying to fight me isn't going to work. I'm dead remember," Lenore said completely absorbing herself into Ellen, who screamed an ear splitting shriek.

Ellen felt herself falling on to the bed. Closing her eyes, she felt sleep over taking her, but she fought against it.

But somehow sleep over took her anyways, and she passed out.

"Ouoth the Raven, 'Nevermore'."

Nevermore was Ellen, as she lay finally resting forever.

Epilogue

"Reporter Garth coming in with a special report about a dead girl. Her name was Ellen Poe. She was 16 years old and an orphan. Ellen died at her aunt's house after about a month of living there. It was a shock to the ninety-year-old woman who almost had a heart attack after seeing her niece's body. 'The body had no signs of struggle and was almost angelic.' That was from Detective Avery who looked at the girl's body over and over after removing it from the deathbed. 'The only weird thing was that the eyes were completely black and blood shot.' That also was from Detective Avery. We only begin to wonder how this young, innocent, naïve girl died."


End file.
